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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018213">Rock you like a hurricane</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/futacookies/pseuds/futacookies'>futacookies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:15:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,152</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/futacookies/pseuds/futacookies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>«All I’m saying is you wouldn’t be so grumpy if you got laid every now and then.»</i><br/>Kiyoomi should stop listening to Atsumu right now. He never cared for any sort of bullshit that came out of his mouth, and it’s not his intention to start now. He should tune his brain off, let the idiot bubble as long as he wants about whatever is on his mind and go home and live happily ever after.<br/>But there’s something in the supponent tone of Atsumu’s voice, as he accuses him of being sexually frustrated, that just ticks him off.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>COWT - Clash Of the Writing Titans/Chronicles Of Words and Trials</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Rock you like a hurricane</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Quite literally just sakuatsu having sex. Minimal plot, much shorter then I planned so it will probably have a part 2. Enjoy!</p><p>[scritta per la quinta settimana del cow-t organizzato da Lande di Fandom con il prompt: "carne che chiede carne//uragano nei desideri sessuali"]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>«All I’m saying is you wouldn’t be so grumpy if you got laid every now and then.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi should stop listening to Atsumu right now. He never cared for any sort of bullshit that came out of his mouth, and it’s not his intention to start now. He should tune his brain off, let the idiot bubble as long as he wants about whatever is on his mind and go home and live happily ever after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there’s something in the supponent tone of Atsumu’s voice, as he accuses him of being sexually frustrated, that just ticks him off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«What do you know about my private life?», he barks, instinctively. «I’m not grumpy.», he adds then, just not to sound offended. Or desperate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s eyebrows lift. He laughs a little – and he’s laughing at him, Kiyoomi knows it and he hates it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Oh, Omi, don’t act like you don’t have “</span>
  <em>
    <span>virgin</span>
  </em>
  <span>” written all over your big forehead.», he teases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi huffs. So that is what’s all about. Well, he’s not a virgin. He had plenty of sexual intercourse during his college years and now he’s perfectly satisfied with having none. That’s what he could tell him, except it’s both a lie and none of his business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a couple experiences, sure. Not exactly the best, he’s aware, but his touch aversion and his private and solitary nature don’t help at all. So maybe Atsumu is right – but it doesn’t matter and it isn’t a topic he’s willing to discuss with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«I bet you’d cum as soon as someone touches you.», Atsumu adds innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«And I bet you wouldn’t be able to do it anyway.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bites his tongue as soon as he’s done talking. That wasn’t a good move, because now Atsumu will say something like “do you want me to try”, and then he’ll have to say no like he actually means it and he’s not sure he can actually do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Ohh⁓», he coos at him, getting closer to his face. «Should we give it a try?»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi is silently grateful for the empty locker room. Everyone else has long gone home, leaving just him and Atsumu behind to do some extra training. He knows Atsumu’s brain-mouth connection is completely filterless and such an exchange, made in front of the whole team, would have absolutely mortified him – and what does mortify him, even if there’s no one but Atsumu to witness, is his body reaction at mere closeness, his breath getting heavier as he invades his space, his eyes darting to the other side of the room, unable to hold his playful stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s just joking, that’s what he’ll say. Ten seconds from now, Atsumu will laugh it off. Maybe he won’t even notice how he’s giving him a boner. He hopes he doesn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«I don’t think we should.», he meekly protests. He turns his back and closes the zipper of his jacket, but Atsumu gets a hold on his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Aw, Omi-kun, don’t be such a bone killer.», he whispers, a hushed breath against his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He growls. It’s unfair how tempting he manages to sound without even trying. Kiyoomi can feel his already little will to resist leaving his body as Atsumu nuzzles his neck. His grip isn’t the strongest, Kiyoomi knows he’d be able to escape at any moment if only he wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing is, they danced around it for a very long time. Be it Atsumu flirting with him only to hide behind some jokes, or Kiyoomi allowing him to step over some boundaries while others were pushed away, they both know they like each other – and, honestly, who wouldn’t like Atsumu? He has broad shoulders, a slim waist, muscular thighs that sometimes keeps him awake at night. He’s handsome enough to make him overlook his obnoxious personality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Atsumu keeps hitting on him shamelessly, so it gets quite obvious the feeling is mutual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just- he doesn’t want to give in in a dirty locker room after being called a virgin. But he also really wants Atsumu  to get him off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he relaxed against his body – he feels his lips curving in a smile against his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu shoves him against a locker, the cheap metal uncomfortable behind his back. He opens his mouth to protest, but he’s quickly silenced with a violent kiss, Atsumu’s tongue pushing inside his parted lips. Kiyoomi sighs against his mouth and tugs at his hair to pull him closer – he leans away though, a smug grin painted on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«See, Omi? Already fired up and all I did was kiss you.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Shut up. You’re no better than I am.», he protests, his hips buckling up against Atsumu’s growing bulge. They both hiss at the contact, non enough to relieve the tension builded in their pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Then I will take care of it.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of his hands trail underneath his shirt, while the other tucks his pants down, exposing his hard cock and giving it a few, experimental strokes. A desperate mew breaks the silence of the empty room and Kiyoomi realizes, much to his shame, it came from him. Atsumu’s grin widens as his hand keeps stroking his length, his thumb circling on the tip, smearing precum over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His slow, titillating pace draws all sort of little, needy moans from his lips. Maybe it’s because he hasn't been touched for a very long time, maybe it’s the way Miya is touching him, maybe it’s just because Atsumu is the one doing it. Kiyoomi wants him to keep it going forever, but he can already feel his orgasm taking over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels like a wave, running him over and dragging him underwater, and every single cells in his body is burning and gasping for air and before he knows it he’s begging and he doesn’t even understand what for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Shh, I’ve got you.», Atsumu murmurs, his voice sweet like honey poured inside his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His pace gets quicker, his hand frantically stroking the whole length, until Kiyoomi feels like he’s dying and he spills over Atsumu’s closed fist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Don’t you feel much better now?», he teases, walking towards the bathrooms to wash himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi, eyes closed, back resting against the locker, is trying to catch his breath. He’s under the impression he hasn't been able to breathe since the moment Atsumu touched him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Omi-kun, you alright?», Miya checks on him once he comes back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waves his hand right before his eyes for a few seconds, until Kiyoomi grabs his shirt and pulls him against him, smashing their lips together. Atsumu emits a strangled, surprised sound, before kissing him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Looks like you won our little bet.», Atsumu notices, once they part. «So, what do you want me to do?»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi doesn’t answer immediately. There are many things he’d like him to do right now, but he doesn’t want to just be greedy. Miya is not to only want who has something to give.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Stay still.», he orders, fixing his pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«What?»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Don’t move. I’m going to suck you off.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has given head before a couple times, sure, but it was always in a much safer, much </span>
  <em>
    <span>cleaner</span>
  </em>
  <span> environment, with a partner he trusted and knew for quite some times. What compels him to get on his knees on the cold tiles is something he can’t name in any other way but want. He genuinely wants Atsumu’s dick in his mouth and it’s both a dreading thought and the hottest image his brain can come up with at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Omi, you know you don’t have to-», Atsumu tries, but he has already shoved down his pants, and he’s now facing his fully erected cock. When he licks the glistening beam of pre-cum from the tip, Miya curses loudly and leans against the wall to support himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mouths at the whole length, staringting from the base and then slowly licking a long, wet stripe until he reaches the tip again. His head bobs on the tip a couple times and Miya’s breath gets heavier – Kiyoomi takes a peek at him, and Miya stares down like he’s having some kind of hallucination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Shit, Omi.», he comments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever he might want to say next is lost in a choked moan. Kiyoomi is taking him in, feeling him hard against his tongue, sucking meticulously, careful to his reaction. For a while the only noise in the room are Atsumu’s pants, echoing in his ear even more desperate than they actually are – when he tugs at his curls, giving him more precise direction and a much sustained rhythm, Kiyoomi lets him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Omi- Omi-, Omi-», he chants, voice broken as he keeps thrusting in his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi can feel his eyes watering and his throat burning for the stretch – he tries to ignore his gag reflex until Atsumu pulls out and cums on the floor, right beside his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.», he repeats. «That was so hot.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi swipes his tears and gives him a condescending, satisfied smile. He doesn’t know where their relationship collocates, now, but he knows for sure he wants to do that again. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next time they’re alone together it’s at Atsumu’s place. Technically, Hinata and Bokuto should have also been there, but both and some kind of impediment, which left them to study some tapes from the last Adlers match on their own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, they sat at a fair distance from each other. They never discussed what happened between them, which is driving Kiyoomi crazy, because for the past week all he has done was fantasizing about Atsumu’s hands touching him all over and being fucked so throughly he wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was of course unsettling for him, since not only he wasn’t used to being constantly distracted by this kind of thoughts, but also made sharing the same space as Atsumu and not getting a boner a very hard task. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«You’ve been staring at me since the beginning of the third set, Omi.», Atsumu informs him, without tearing his gaze away from the match.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he really wanted to ask, though, is why hasn’t Atsumu stared at him as well. If he liked it as much as Kiyoomi thought he did, shouldn’t he be more interested in him than in a stupid volleyball game?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Miya-», he starts, shifting until he reaches the end of the couch where he’s sitting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t give any signs of paying attention to him, so Kiyoomi gets up and straddles his lap. He gives a few, subtle rolls, before stopping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Atsumu.», he complains, whispering huskily against his ear. «You’re ignoring me.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Yeah, Omi, I’m aware. I’ve been trying to, at least.», he answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a defeated sigh he reaches for the controller and stops the footage. When his eyes finally turn on him, there’s a familiar hunger in them he immediately recognizes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Just to get things straight-», he starts, his hands steady on his hips, «-you don’t regret it, right?»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi leans away to take a good look at his face. He grabs his shoulder and starts pushing his hips against Atsumu’s growing bulge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Do I look like someone who regrets it?»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«God, Omi, no.», he answers with a quiet breath, his hands slipping under Kiyoomi’s shirt, brushing a nipple with his fingertips. «Please, don’t stop.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi groans at the featherlight touch and quickly discards his shirt to the side to give Atsumu better access to his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«You feel so good.», he hums as Atsumu hands spread wide on his chest, reaching for his shoulder, sliding on his back as Kiyoomi adjusts on top of him to indulge his touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every thrust sends a shiver down his spine as seeks for any possible friction. He pants at each movement, and when he moans he’s getting so close to relief Atsumu’s hands claw to his hips and they clash together deliciously, over and over again until Kiyoomi cums with his face buried in Atsumu’s neck, eagerly biting at the tender skin. Atsumu, rutting against him, doesn’t take long to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«I can’t believe you made me cum in my pants. I feel like some horny teenager.», Atsumu laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi understands the feeling, but his laugh is stuck in throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«You’re not gonna ignore me again, are you?», he questions, his eyes half-closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t think he can stand another week like the one just passed, not when he can’t possibly get past how good it felt, how good </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> felt – now he wants nothing melt between Atsumu’s hands at any given chance until there’s nothing left of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pushes him to the side before getting up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Like I could. Right now, I’d even bring you in the shower with me.», he teases.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Showering with someone is a very intimate experience, Kiyoomi learns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think twice about getting up and follow Atsumu to the bathroom, kissing him hungrily as they undressed – or rather, as they ripped off their clothes in a frenzy, their hands grasping at the exposed skin, soft hums as Kiyoomi nibbled at Atsumu’s neck, licking over the fading teeth mark he left few minutes before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that they’re both inside the tiny shower cabin, clearly not designed for two men to share, he doesn’t know whether to look away, conscious about Atsumu’s prying eyes lingering all over his body, or to match his eager and burn his sculpted figure in mind, so he’ll never forget it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu opens the water, at first almost cold and then warmer and warmer, and then reaches for a sponge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Do you mind?»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi silently shakes his head – he watches, bewitched, as Atsumu pours his body washer on the sponge and then approaches him, the sponge gently sliding on his skin. Atsumu studies with intent every centimeter of his body, scrubbing so delicately Kiyoomi feels like made of porcelain. He feels so much more naked than just being clothless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Miya-», he calls, not sure if to ask him to stop or to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Ohw, Omi, that won’t work.», he pouts. «Wasn’t I “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Atsumu</span>
  </em>
  <span>”?», he adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Okay, fine, Atsumu-», he begins, but stops once Atsumu’s hand strokes his half erect cock to give him an helpless look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Yes, Omi? I’m listening.», he replies, giving a fimer stroke. «Although I’d much rather hear you moan.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cock twitch in response, getting harder under his oculate ministrations, and all Kiyoomi manages to say in an </span>
  <em>
    <span>“ahh⁓” </span>
  </em>
  <span>suffocate against his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«You know, Omi, you’re so pretty like this.», Atsumu tells him, his fingers wrapping around his bangs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«And you are so tempting.», Kiyoomi protests, one hand resting on Atsumu’s abs to push him as further as possible, «It’s almost a sin.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«That’s unfair, Omi.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu closes the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Now I want to fuck you.»</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi never dried up from a shower so quickly. His hair is still damp as he crashes on Atsumu’s bed, wrapping his arm behind his neck and pulling him closer in a heated kiss. He meets no resistance as he pushes his tongue past Atsumu’s lips, circling Atsumu’s tongue and tugging at his hair to deepen the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh once Atsumu manages to settle between his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Let me get the lube.», he protests, pulling away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi waits impatiently as Atsumu fidgets with his bedside table. He gets even more impatient once he hears the lube’s cap opening. He spreads his legs, offering himself for Atsumu to take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«If I had known you would have been so desperate for my dick, Omi-», he teases, coating his fingers, «I would have found a way to get to this so much sooner.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes one finger against his entrance, just brushing his hole, smearing lube on it as Kiyoomi whines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Can’t you just put it i- </span>
  <em>
    <span>ahh</span>
  </em>
  <span>», he moans, once Atsumu actually pushes his finger past his entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes it slow, letting Kiyoomi adjust to it until he’s begging for another finger. He hooks them once he finds his prostate, a teasing touch as waiting Kiyoomi’s moans before actually brushing over it until all he can hear are Kiyoomi’s pants and the obscene squeak of his lubed fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«God, Atsumu-», Kiyoomi calls with half-lidded eyes, «-if you don’t fuck me right now-»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets out a complaining sound once Atsumu’s fingers leave him. Kiyoomi watches as he opens the condom package, rolling it on and giving himself a few strokes to cover it in lube. Then Atsumu is back between his legs and Kiyoomi shivers in anticipation. They both moan once he pushes just the tip past his hole, and then Kiyoomi holds his breath as he steadily thrusts his length.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Fuck, Omi, you’re so tight.», Atsumu moans once he’s fully inside of him. «So good for me.»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi whines. He’s feeling so much he doesn’t think he can bear it. There can’t be any finer pleasure than having Atsumu Miya’s cock shoved inside his ass. Or that’s what he thinks until Atsumu starts to move, pulling out to leave just the tip and then violentlty thrusting back in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu repeats his movement a few more times, getting rewarded with high pitched moans and a fucked out stare from Kiyoomi, who soon starts to arch his back to meet his thrust, demanding a much faster pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«More, Atsumu-», he begs, his voice hoarse between choked pants, «-please, more- please-»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Yes, baby, yes, anything you want.», he grants, throwing Kiyoomi legs on his shoulders effortlessly to thrust deeper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s hand wanders on his neglected, aching cock, just brushing, just teasing, enough to make his hips buckle up against his hand, a silent, unintentional plea as Kiyoomi is too far gone to rely on anything but his instincts. Once his fingers wrap around his length, Kiyoomi hisses at the long awaited touch, chanting Atsumu’s name like an endless prayer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Atsumu, who could cum from the sight of this disheveled Kiyoomi alone and is instead lucky enough to be buried in his hot, tight hole, does everything in his power to please him. His pace gets steady as he moves his hand around the tip of his cock, matching his thrusts with his strokes, beaming as Kiyoomi’s moans becomes an ensemble of  meaningless bubbling until there’s nothing but a long cry of pleasure as he spills over his hand and over his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Fuck, Omi.», he curses, his orgasm reaching as he stares at his flushed cheeks, his plump, parted lips, at the cum on his chest, thinking he’s the one who reduced him like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>«Atsumu-», Kiyoomi calls after a while, once he can make a comprehensible thought. He turns around to face him, «what are we?»</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Teammates?», is the dumbfounded answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Yeah, sure.», Kiyoomi agrees. «What are we </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?», he specifies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Ohh⁓», he chirps. «Teammates with benefits? Sounds good?», he suggests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi scrolls his shoulder – as long as Atsumu is up to keeping fucking, anything’s fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>«Sure.»</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/futacookies">- twitter!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
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